


The Orchards

by Raven_Knight



Series: 2018 Autumn OTP Challenge - Multifandom [28]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Jedi Apprentice Series - Jude Watson & Dave Wolverton, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Cooking, Domestic, Don't copy to another site, Gen, Hurt Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Family Feels, Jedi Lifestyle, Masters & Padawans, Mother Hen Qui-Gon Jinn, Platonic Relationships, Qui-Gon Argues with the Council
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 10:13:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18333878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raven_Knight/pseuds/Raven_Knight
Summary: When young Obi-Wan Kenobi is injured on a previous mission, Qui-Gon Jinn refuses to accept further off-planet missions until his Padawan's recovery. Yoda assigns the pair an in-Temple mission of utmost importance while Obi-Wan heals. Master and Padawan welcome the change of pace.





	The Orchards

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars. This piece, archived at Archive of Our Own (Ao3), is purely a non-commercial work of fiction from which I am not profiting in any way. This work may not be reproduced, archived, or redistributed by any means and/or in any format without prior written permission from me. Permission may be obtained by contacting me at r4v3n.kn1ght@gmail.com.
> 
> This series of oneshots belong to the 2018 Autumn OTP Challenge, though I have done away with the OTP part of it and focus instead on either romantic ships I ship or platonic relationships that fit the prompt given. This oneshot is in response to prompt #28: Pumpkin Dishes/Kitchen/Cooking. ~ RK

**The Orchards**  
By  
**Raven Knight**

When Master Qui-Gon Jinn stood before the Jedi Council wearing bloodstained robes and a scowl of thinly veiled anger, both Master Yoda and Master Windu silently agreed to skip any mention of disciplinary action exchanging nothing more than a quick glance. “Where is your apprentice?” Windu asked. Qui-Gon’s eyes burned into him. He’d chosen the wrong question to ask the disheveled Master.

“With the Healers,” Qui-Gon growled challengingly, daring them to question his decision to stand before them to deliver his report without his Padawan. “Surely you did not expect him to stand here for this with a broken tibia. His presence is not required while I give the mission report, so I brought him to the Healers Wing to get him the assistance I could not properly provide him with until we returned to the Temple.”

“Expect him to rest and heal we do,” Yoda said, cutting off Qui-Gon’s protective temper and reassuring him in the same breath. “The safety of our Padawans, important to this Council it is. Recover Obi-Wan will?” Qui-Gon drew a deep breath through his nose and recovered some emotional balance before nodding curtly to Yoda. “Good this is.” Qui-Gon appreciated the encouragement from his Grandmaster. “Say the Healers did, how long Obi-Wan’s recovery to be expected?”

Qui-Gon nodded, the tension in his body eased with Yoda’s concern for his Padawan. “They mentioned that the typical recovery time is anywhere between six and twelve months, Master.”

Yoda hummed to himself in thought. “A long time that is. If a mission you are assigned, bring an injured Padawan you should not.”

“I will not leave him behind,” Qui-Gon stated.

“You may have to, Master Jinn,” Ki-Adi-Mundi pointed out.

“I will not leave him behind,” Qui-Gon repeated, his tone brooked no argument. He stared hard at the Cerean.

Qui-Gon silently challenged him until Ki-Adi-Mundi broke the silence between them. “You choose to restrict yourself and your Padawan to the Temple until Obi-Wan makes a full recovery. Your reputation and skill are sometimes specifically requested. What is your solut—”

Qui-Gon’s hand sliced through the air in dismissal. “There are other negotiators in the Order. I’m not the only one. Until Obi-Wan is recovered, I’m unavailable. It is that simple, Masters.”

“Not quite, Master Jinn,” said Mace Windu as he leaned forward in his seat. “An apprentice taken off the active roster is not a hindrance to their masters in completing a mission without them.” He held up a hand before Qui-Gon could interrupt. “We understand your loyalty and protectiveness towards your apprentice. But we will not remove you from the active roster of knights and masters.”

Qui-Gon visibly bristled in the center of the room. “Obi-Wan has been loyal to me and at my side since I named him my Padawan. I will not disrespect that and leave him here to go on a mission because he is injured. He deserves equal loyalty from me for what he’s shown me. We are a team. What kind of message does that give him if I go on mission without him?”

“You left him at the Healers to report on your last mission without him,” Windu said.

“That is hardly equivalent.”

“A solution I have for you, Qui-Gon,” Yoda said, distracting everyone from the tension brewing between Qui-Gon, Windu, and Mundi. “A mission for you it is, of utmost importance to the Order.”

He rolled his eyes in frustration. “Master, I will not—”

Yoda slammed his gimer stick on the polished floor. “Listen you will!” When everyone quieted and looked to him to speak, Yoda continued in a softer tone. “A harvest season it is in one of our orchards. Important this is. A good time for instruction in the Living Force to a recovering padawan it is.” Qui-Gon fought to contain a smile. He knew where his grandmaster was going with this. “Lacking in this subject Obi-Wan’s knowledge is. To the orchards you both will go, and help the harvest gathering you will. The Living Force you will immerse yourself and teach it further to your padawan you will. Your mission this is until recovered fully Obi-Wan is.” His ancient eyes glowed as he looked at Qui-Gon, equally holding his fondness for his grandpadawan and a desire to end the clash of wills in the room.

Qui-Gon returned the affectionate gaze with a grateful smile of his own. “Thank you, Master,” he said with a respectful bow.

“May the Force be with you,” Yoda said, dismissing him.

Qui-Gon left the Council Chamber and went straight to his quarters for a shower and change of clothing. After that, he returned to the Healers Wing and told Obi-Wan of their new extended mission.

Obi-Wan’s enthusiasm didn’t live up to Qui-Gon’s expectations but his Padawan ultimately obeyed the orders of the Council. Once Qui-Gon related the entire confrontation in the Council Chamber to Obi-Wan, the teenager couldn’t decide if he should be ashamed of or touched by his Master’s obstinacy. He ended up poised between the two.

The shame faded as the days and weeks wore on and both Master and Padawan came to enjoy the peace and quiet and calm of working in the Temple Orchards. Qui-Gon fussed over his plasto-casted leg and refused to let Obi-Wan do anything too strenuous or that required him to be on his feet for too long. And he strictly forbade Obi-Wan from carrying the heavy buckets of fruit with a compromised leg. Initially frustrated by these restrictions, Obi-Wan soon found his Master’s fussing and attention amusing. That mother-hen quality rarely shined in Qui-Gon Jinn.  More often than not, Qui-Gon stood as a solid foundation, a grounding presence who gently encouraged Obi-Wan on most days, firmly commanded improvement and learning from mistakes on other days. Qui-Gon only ever fussed or hovered anxiously about Obi-Wan during periods of injury or illness. Having a broken leg gave Obi-Wan plenty of experience with this side of his Master. He chose to enjoy the care and attention rather than find it irritating and ruin this quiet recovery time for both of them by instigating any kind of argument.

Their duty consisted mostly of harvesting the season’s apples. The trees were particularly prolific every other year. One year, there would be a humble yield of the fruit and it was a special treat to enjoy an apple dish in the Temple. Then the next year’s harvest season arrived and the trees produced fruit more quickly than the Jedi tending the orchards could keep up with gathering to send to the kitchens. Large quantities of apples ended up in personal quarters to be enjoyed at the residents’ leisure. The season that found Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan in the apple orchards was such a prolific year. Even as Qui-Gon finished raking the apples into a pile that had fallen to the grass, more were breaking free of the branches and thudding to the ground. Rather than re-rake these newly fallen apples, Qui-Gon moved on to the next section, knowing they would repeat the entire process tomorrow anyway.

At the beginning of their day, they would pick up a tall stack of buckets and a rake in the supply area and carry them to the trees. Qui-Gon would help Obi-Wan strategically position the buckets around the area they intended to work through for the day. The buckets marked where Qui-Gon should rake the fallen apples. They also were clear indicators of where Obi-Wan should be at all times. Obi-Wan’s job was to inspect the apples, discard the unusable ones, and put the good ones in the bucket to be carried off the orchards for future cooking, baking, slicing, drying, and simple nibbling by the entirety of the Jedi Order. Qui-Gon raked the apples to the nearest bucket to him at the time. Once he gathered a large enough pile, he started herding the fruit to the next nearest bucket. As he did this task, he would glance over at Obi-Wan to make sure his apprentice remained seated by the pile of apples and the bucket while he worked on his sorting task.

Qui-Gon usually finished his task long before Obi-Wan did, and as such, he would sit beside his Padawan and help him sort through the apples. Every so often, Qui-Gon discovered a slug on an apple, desperately clinging to it. Gently, he urged the slug from the fruit and nudged it from his finger onto the grass where it could slowly go on its way unharmed. When he caught Obi-Wan copy his method of slug removal, Qui-Gon smiled proudly as he stood and carried the full bucket away from the trees for processing.

When Obi-Wan showed signs of needing rest, Qui-Gon would call an end to their harvesting duties. After bringing the rake and filled buckets away from the trees, he helped Obi-Wan to his feet and supported him back to their quarters. Obi-Wan completed coursework from home in the evening once latemeal concluded, submitting assignments as needed. They meditated in the evening, then prepared for sleep to repeat their daily schedule all over again. While he enjoyed the company of his Master, Obi-Wan missed having time with his agemates during and after their classes. He missed eating with them in the refectory. He missed physically attending class, but knew he would be permitted to do so again soon with his leg healing well and slightly ahead of schedule.

One week later, Obi-Wan watched his Master put all of their harvest supplies away from his position on the ground. Qui-Gon returned and stooped to help him up. “Come, Padawan. We’re doing something a little differently today.”

Obi-Wan got to his feet, his strength returning a little more each day as his healing progressed. He noticed a full bucket of apples still on the grass near the edge of the orchard’s stone walkway. “Master, you forgot a bucket,” he said, pointing to it.

“I didn’t forget it. We’re taking it with us.” Qui-Gon wrapped an arm around Obi-Wan’s waist. Obi-Wan flung his arm over his Master’s tall frame for his own balance. Qui-Gon hunched a little to make it an easier height difference for his Padawan. They started off, taking a direct route to the waiting bucket. “I have plans for those apples,” he said with a wag of his eyebrows. They stopped walking so that Qui-Gon could bend further to grab the handle and pick up the large bucket of apples. They continued heading out of the orchards.

“What are you going to make?”

“What are _we_ going to make, I think you meant to say, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan bit back a sigh. “Are we keeping it?”

“Yes. But if you don’t like it, then I will have to eat it myself.”

“What are we making?”

Obi-Wan didn’t realize that they were more than halfway back to their quarters between his efforts to walk and trying to puzzle out what his Master had in mind for them to cook with their share of the apples they’d gathered. “A pie?” he asked hopefully.

“No.”

Obi-Wan thought for a moment. “What about coring them and then baking them? You made those one year, didn’t you, Master?”

Qui-Gon smiled. “I did, and they were a spectacular failure. They baked too long and ended up apple mush if you remember.”

Obi-Wan giggled. “It still tasted fine, Master.”

“It was dreadful, Padawan. Admit it.”

“Finely coated mush with a firm crusted shell of cinnamon and sugar,” Obi-Wan said through increasing laughter. “Even Master Yoda didn’t like it and he eats anything.”

“And you thought I would make it again?” Qui-Gon laughed around his words with him. “Absolutely not, little one.”

Obi-Wan looked up at him. “But you’ve always taught me that I should try again if I failed the first time.”

Qui-Gon nodded. “This is true, but we cannot excel at everything we try. Not all of us are meant to be great cooks, Obi-Wan.”

The boy snorted. “You clearly weren’t, Master.”

Qui-Gon lightly smacked Obi-Wan’s side with the hand supporting him at the waist. “Brat,” he admonished through a paternal smile. “Your cooking skills are barely any better than mine.”

“But they’re still better than yours, Master, and we both know it,” Obi-Wan defended himself.

They arrived at their quarters. Obi-Wan’s hand-print access opened the door for them since both of Qui-Gon’s hands were occupied. They made it into their living space, Qui-Gon deposited Obi-Wan onto a chair, and plunked the bucket down next to him. He headed into the kitchen and returned with a knife, a peeler, a large pot, an impressive bowl, and a casserole dish that could hold a meal to feed six people. He arranged them on the table, stood back to study everything with a frown, nodded to himself, and went back to the kitchen to fetch a cutting board.

“Alright, Padawan, your job will be to peel the apples,” he said as he presented the peeler to Obi-Wan with a flourish. “While I will chop.” He picked up the knife and positioned the cutting board in front of him.

They set to work, establishing a comfortable rhythm of peeling and chopping their apples. Both of them discarding their unusable pieces into the large bowl Qui-Gon placed between them, filling it quickly with peels, stems, cores, and bruised sections of the fruit gone brown and mushy. Qui-Gon chopped and diced the fruit and tossed the chunks of the apples into the deep cooking pot by the handful. Their quarters quickly took on the scent of the apples as they worked, filling the space with a bright, fresh, and sweet aroma.

Soon enough, Qui-Gon peered into the pot to see how much was in it and decided there were more than enough apples in it. He stood and took the pot into the kitchen. “Master, where are you going?” Obi-Wan called from his seat, continuing his peeling.

“To start cooking.”

“But Master, you still have more to chop. I’m not done yet.”

Qui-Gon turned on the heating surface and the oven. He added some water to the pot before setting it down onto the heat. “I have to start step one before we move on to part two. They have to cook until tender.” He wiped his hands on a towel and returned to the table to resume chopping the small pile next to the cutting board. His diversion into the kitchen started a still manageable fruit traffic jam on the table. He quickened his pace and reestablished their rhythm as soon as he could.

“You still haven’t told me what we’re making,” Obi-Wan prompted as he set down another peeled apple.

“Would you accept ‘It’s a surprise’ as an answer?” Qui-Gon asked, snatching up the apple and slicing into it.

Obi-Wan worked on the next one. “I would not. Not after all this work.”

 “Alright. We’re making apple butter and sauce.”

“Really?” Obi-Wan asked, excitement lightening his voice. “I love apple butter.”

Qui-Gon smiled down at the cutting board. “I know, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan stopped peeling and nervously said, “I hope you know what you’re doing, Master. If it’s turns out dreadful, there’s no way I can lie to you about it.”

“Keep peeling, Padawan,” Qui-Gon said, waiting for Obi-Wan to obey before continuing. “I doubt anything but a taste test will convince you to believe me, but I have confidence that I can make apple butter well enough to satisfy your taste buds.” He glanced at his apprentice and smiled when Obi-Wan’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He spared him and went to check on the apples to give Obi-Wan time to pull himself together again. The apples were ready. Qui-Gon rooted through his cupboards for the spices and sugars he needed and added them with memorized precision to the mixture. The last ingredient he needed was lemon juice. Once he’d stirred them all together, he returned to the table for the casserole dish and transferred the warm apple and spice mixture into the dish. A blast of heat slammed into him when he opened the oven to settle the dish inside the airflow sending the smell of the warmed apples and spices out of the kitchen and to Obi-Wan’s nostrils. Qui-Gon set a timer, then returned with the now-empty pot to his chopping task at the table. “Remind me to stir it occasionally while we work.”

“How long does it take?”

“Three to four hours.”

Obi-Wan’s head snapped up. “What?”

“Patience, Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan sighed. “Yes, Master.”

Together, they finished the preparation work for the rest of the apples, piled them into the pot again, and this time kept the fruit on the heating surface to cook. He helped Obi-Wan over to stand there at the heating surface and armed him with a spoon to stir it occasionally while he cleaned up their tools and work area. Every so often, Qui-Gon remembered to stir the apple butter in the oven, but sometimes he needed Obi-Wan to remind him. He caught Obi-Wan grimacing and swaying uncomfortably on his feet just after he put the last of the cleaned and dried dishes away. “Come on, Padawan, time for sleep for you,” he said, plucking the spoon from Obi-Wan’s relaxed grip.

“I’m fine, Master,” Obi-Wan protested. His half-mast eyes said otherwise.

Qui-Gon smiled fondly at his stubborn Padawan. “Liar. Move it, young man.”

With a sigh, Obi-Wan raised his arm for his Master, who ducked enough for him to drape it across the older man’s shoulders. Qui-Gon let Obi-Wan hobble for a few steps when the slow progress clued him in to the fact that his apprentice would be asleep before they made it through the common room of their quarters, nevermind to the boy’s sleep chamber. Qui-Gon swooped low, hooked his free arm beneath Obi-Wan’s knees, and carried his exhausted Padawan to bed, mindful of his plasto-cast. Obi-Wan fell asleep before he’d gotten his boots off and the blanket covering him. “Goodnight, Padawan,” he whispered, letting Obi-Wan’s braid slip through his fingers. Qui-Gon had to mind the apple concoctions for another two hours, plus put them away for storage, before he could sleep as well.

The next morning, Qui-Gon had already risen and prepared a small breakfast for both of them by the time he felt Obi-Wan wake up. He went to his Padawan’s door and tapped his knuckles on it. “Do you need help?”

Obi-Wan’s muffled response came through the door. “No, Master. I’m fine.”

“Do you want to try to walk to the table on your own?”

Obi-Wan hesitated. “Would you let me try?”

“Of course.” Qui-Gon returned to the common area. A blinking light on the comm-unit caught his eye. He listened to the message as he waited for Obi-Wan to venture from his room. He smiled at the news it conveyed. He hoped Obi-Wan would be pleased by it.

His apprentice used the walls for support and guidance, but he managed to walk shakily to the table and awkwardly lower himself into a chair. Qui-Gon joined him and they started on their breakfast. “A message came through from the Healer’s this morning,” Qui-Gon told him. Rather than talk with his mouth full, Obi-Wan raised his eyebrows questioningly. “Within two weeks, they feel you may be able to remove the plasto-cast and begin some exercises to re-strengthen your leg.”

“That’s wonderful, Master.” Obi-Wan’s face did not match his words.

“Is something wrong?”

Obi-Wan shook his head. “No, Master.” He busied himself by spreading some of their fresh apple butter on his toast with far more care than the task ever could require.

“Obi-Wan.” Qui-Gon’s tone warned that he knew his Padawan lied.

Obi-Wan sighed and abandoned his task. “It’s just, well, I’ve enjoyed our time together in the gardens.” He caught the rising glee in his Master’s expression and immediately sought to clarify his position. “I know I was almost assigned to the Agricorps before you took me on, and I still believe that I’m meant to be a Knight. But, it was peaceful the last few weeks and I think I’ll miss that calmness we’ve had in the orchards.”

Qui-Gon understood. “We are still assigned there until you are _fully_ recovered. Yoda’s orders. There is still time to be spent there for us.” He poured tea for himself. “Of course, now that you are able to walk on your own a little better, you will be reporting to your classes in person.” Obi-Wan looked glum. “I thought you looked forward to that.”

“I do, Master. I’ve missed my friends and going to class, but—”

Qui-Gon took mercy on him. “I understand, Obi-Wan.”

“You do?”

He nodded. “Our lives, for all Jedi, are not only about our skill in negotiation, or lightsaber technique, or even answering to the Council.”

Obi-Wan grinned cheekily. “Or running from people trying to kill us.”

Qui-Gon matched his smile but turned serious again, firmly in the role of teacher. “Sometimes our lives are about the very simple things, like picking a crop of apples, making something from it and then enjoying it, even if only for just a brief but peaceful time. It’s the kind of life that all Jedi work to protect.” He knew the lesson landed when Obi-Wan’s mirth retreated and he took on a more contemplative mood.

“It doesn’t stop me from wishing it could always be simple like this, or at least more often than it is for us.”

Qui-Gon understood completely. “I, too, wish that were so.” He took up his utensils. “But let us enjoy what remains of it while we can, shall we? Pass the apple butter, Padawan.” Obi-Wan did so with a smile. Qui-Gon spread a generous amount onto his toast. Together, Master and Padawan enjoyed the rare quiet in their lives and the results of their labors for as long as it lasted.

**Author's Note:**

> I make apple butter almost every year. The prompt lent itself to sharing the experience (and sometimes struggle) of making that deliciousness in the autumn. Figured Qui-Gon would be all about the gardening, since he's a Master of the Living Force. I imagine him as the sort of person with plants and other growing things around as much as he can manage it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading. Please leave a comment! ~ RK


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